


acclimatization

by mieraspeller



Series: AU Fluff 'Verse [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-27
Updated: 2012-10-27
Packaged: 2017-11-17 04:12:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mieraspeller/pseuds/mieraspeller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Sheriff Stilinski walks in on them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	acclimatization

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd

John forgets to turn off the cruiser’s headlights until after he’s in the driveway next to the Jeep. Stiles will probably complain in the morning about being woken up by them, but he’s been home so infrequently through his second year of college that John has fallen out of the habit. The last few months he’s been home even less, now that Derek has his own place, and he knows that Stiles was planning on staying with Derek over summer break as well. John still likes that better than Stiles’ first semester of college; every time he talked to Stiles on the phone he would hear a new name. Usually they’d only last a week and Derek’s been around for almost two years now, so John figures there must have been something to Stiles’ poorly hidden crush on Derek for all those years.

He’s quiet as he enters the house. Walking through the living room to his office is usually a landmine of pizza boxes and game controllers when Stiles is around, so he flips on the lamp in the corner and then lets out laugh before he can stop himself. 

Stiles is asleep on the couch with his arms splayed over the back, mouth open and faint snores blowing through Derek’s hair. Who’s slumped against Stiles side, his visible hand latched tight onto the edge of Stiles’ plaid over shirt. Even in the yellow lamplight John can see the dark circles under their eyes, finals and deadlines taking their toll even on their young faces. He decides that waking them up would be more trouble than it’s worth, and instead pulls the blanket off the back of his recliner and drapes it over them, shaking his head fondly when Derek frowns and drags Stiles a little closer. 

He goes to his office to put his gun in the safe -- an even older habit that John hasn’t tried to break. The photo albums are still on his desk from where he and Derek had looked through them last week after Derek came by for dinner. Going from never being alone at the Hale House, to the quiet of an empty apartment -- well, John knows the feeling, and he’s glad that he and Derek can get along well enough for a meal, and some human company every week or so. Stiles complains that Derek and John talk about him behind his back, but he does it with a smile. (It happens less than Stiles thinks. They mostly talk about their work, or the news, and sometimes football, with only occasional mentions of Stiles. Mainly while they were laughing over how in every photo of Stiles, he’s blurring out of the frame, unable to be still except for the few shots where he’s asleep or someone is holding him immobile.)

John starts up the stairs, then changes his mind and detours back to his office. Pulling out his old camera brings back a rush of memories, but it still has film in it, so he goes back into the living room and takes a photo, grinning helplessly. Maybe he’ll add it to the album. And send along a copy to Max and Diane, because he knows they’ll get a kick out of it. 

He takes a couple in case the first one doesn’t turn out, and then shuts off the lamp and heads for his own bed. If John can manage to get a few hours of sleep, maybe he’ll get up and make them all breakfast. He’ll even use the turkey bacon and that fake cheese Stiles’ bought for omelettes. Someone else ought to get a chance to enjoy it as much as John does.

 

****

 

“...bacon in a few.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry about -”

Stiles cracks his eyes open to see his dad standing in the doorway, looking amused. It takes him a minute to comprehend that he’s still on the couch, one arm wrapped around Derek’s neck like a particularly stubborn barnacle.

His dad waves away Derek’s apology, calling, “At least park your car in the driveway next time,” as he walks back into the kitchen.

Well, fuck. Stiles is probably going to be hearing about this one for awhile. And the breakfast his dad mentioned will just be the beginning. There’s a brief moment of panic when he looks at the clock and sees it’s after nine, and there is no way he’s going to make it back for his noon class, but Derek grabs him before he can roll off the couch.

“It’s summer break, remember?”

“Thank god," Stiles breathes, relaxing for about two seconds before he tenses again, adding, "But -- fuck, is my dad pissed? He didn’t look pissed but I’ve been known to sleep through yelling -- shit, he didn’t yell at you did he?” He’s maybe a little frantic, but waking up to his dad talking to his boyfriend, who is currently _using Stiles as a pillow_ is a little disorienting. At least they’re both dressed.

Derek shakes his head. “No. He told me to stay for breakfast,” he says, and he sounds like he’s not sure if he’s happy or terrified. “So get up, before he comes back.” They manage to disentangle themselves without too much trouble. Stiles staggers to his feet. It feels like his bones are creaking. Next time he manages to cuddle Derek into submission, he’s at least going to put on pajama pants first. Actually, next time will probably be at Derek’s apartment. In Derek’s bed. Where they will both be until Stiles’ school starts back up, if he has any say in it. He grins and stretches widely, yawning and then has to laugh at Derek’s disgusted face. Yeah, his breath is probably pretty gross. Especially to a werewolf nose.

“Ha, I finally found a disadvantage to your werewolf powers,” Stiles tells him, and Derek rolls his eyes. But he’s also still shooting nervous looks at the door, like he’s waiting for Stiles’ dad to come back with a shotgun. Which is a stupid thing to be nervous about. Derek and his dad are practically bros now. They have dinner all the time, and his dad lets Derek sleep over when Stiles is home on breaks. It’s about a year too late for his dad to start freaking out about seeing Stiles and Derek piled on his couch together, though it's usually not in the middle of the night. But it’s not like they were doing anything x rated. Even then, unless his dad has started making up wolfsbane laced shotgun shells, Derek would heal. And that’s definitely not something he should say to Derek right now. He already looks like he’s about to make a run for it.

“So... sorry. I guess I was really tired,” Stiles says instead.

“It’s fine,” Derek lies, and tries for a disaffected shrug. It’s not exactly convincing, so Stiles takes pity on him and points him to bathroom.

“Go... I don’t know, clean up or whatever. I’ll tell my dad know that this was totally my fault.”

“It’s always your fault,” Derek says as he tosses the blanket over the back of the couch, but he looks less like he’s been called out for pistols at dawn, so Stiles lets that blatant untruth go without comment. Besides, if Derek had really wanted to leave, he could have used his werewolf strength to pry Stiles off of him. Which, actually...

“You fell asleep, too,” Stiles guesses, and grins when he sees the tips of Derek’s ears flush red. “You totally did. You fell asleep and you didn’t even wake up when my dad got home. You have been fully acclimatized into the Stilinski family now, you can’t escape.” 

“...I don’t even know how to respond to that,” Derek says after a moment, and disappears into the hall.

“Don’t lie, you know you love it,” Stiles calls after him.

“Yeah,” Derek says, just loud enough for Stiles to hear, and Stiles grins. As much as he wants to chase Derek down to see what other parts of his body have turned red, it would just end up embarrassing both of them. Plus his dad would probably withhold breakfast. He has had strict rules in place since high school about what parts of the house Stiles is allowed to manhandle his significant others in, and the whole list is Stiles' bedroom.

"What's for breakfast?" Stiles asks instead, smiling brightly at his dad as he enters the kitchen. If he's happier than he normally is before his morning sustenance, his dad is kind enough not to mention it. 


End file.
